Forgive Me?
by RLoli
Summary: After everything, it was all about the the sex, sins, forgiveness and love. Tifa has been pushed too far-and right into the arms of a stranger. "He's going to come back, Tifa." A little push was all he needed. TifaxOC, eventual Cloti.
1. Part I

Hey guys! So, this is going to be a three-parter that was supposed to be quite a short one-shot, and then a two-parter but kinda got away from me. Yeah, my muse is a crazy bitch and she hurts me if she doesn't get what she wants. Go figure.

Set sometime between Case Of Tifa and Advent Children, but slightly AU due to an OC and my own take on the events and perspectives of the characters involved.

So, basically-what would happen if it seemed that Tifa Lockheart was trying to move on from, and even _replacing, _Cloud Strife?

_"A little push is all he needs, that's all."_

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but Jake.

* * *

He said _yes_-it was as simple as that. It was sort of funny, that after everything-the tragedies, the deaths, the completely fucking craziness of her life-that it took a simple '_yes'_ for Tifa Lockheart to succumb to something so _simple_ as sex.

Now, perhaps if she hadn't been as emotionally vulnerable as she had been, then maybe she wouldn't have given in so easily to the polite stranger with the wicked smile, dark, sharp-angled eyes and good intentions. Perhaps if Cloud hadn't left again without so much as a goodbye she wouldn't have been so fucking angry, and therefore, so vulnerable. It always came down to Cloud; one way or another.

But, perhaps, that was the key. Maybe Tifa Lockheart wanted to make a choice completely without any cause and effect on Cloud's behalf. Maybe if she gave her body to this man-this stranger-it would mark the beginning of a life _without _Cloud. If she did give her body to this man, then maybe she wouldn't feel as if she should be giving it to Cloud, because she had always felt as if she owed it to him in some twisted, fucked up way-because she loved him, and he supposedly loved her.

But that still didn't stop him from up and leaving every other day, so, maybe he didn't really love her at all.

Tifa was used to men hitting on her, drooling over her, and practically tripping over their dicks to get to her. She was flattered, but most of the time, she was disinterested and rather even bored by it all. If the men weren't even single, well then she was just disgusted, and promptly kicked the sorry jerk out of her bar-loyalty and faithfulness was just something far too important to her than her own vanity. And then on the other hand, if they were indeed single, it hardly made a difference to her. There had only been one man for her, and that man was never around. Maybe if he was around more often it would stop the testosterone driven, one-track minded patrons of her bar from throwing themselves at her.

There was something different tonight. It wasn't the fact that she was alone-that was pretty standard. Cloud had left again two weeks ago without a word. He left her with their precious, little, almost-daughter and part sister, Marlene and the orphaned and recently brought in, Denzel-the latter of which was fatally ill with Geostigma. So, what in the world had possessed Cloud to run away, Tifa had no idea, and, this time she was sure it was the final straw. Something was, indeed, different.

Because, when she happened to come across Cloud's empty office early that morning 13 days ago, with his empty bed, which had been neatly made up as if had never been slept in, and a desk which still remained rather messy with a litter of books Tifa hadn't bothered to look at strewn across it, she made a decision.

As much as it killed her, she decided that maybe Cloud didn't really love her at all and that she didn't owe him much of anything-at least, not that of a lover.

"How are you doing tonight?" It wasn't a pick-up line, there was absolutely nothing sleazy about it-it was a simple, polite sentiment, and it was for her. She smiled warmly, and nodded, saying something along the lines of, "Good, and you?" without even bothering to look up at the owner of the question. She was wiping down the hard, marble surface of the bar top now that the place was winding down and she had the time.

He said something generic-something about work or how tired he was-and she thought that's where the conversation would end. But then, as she turned to leave her post behind the bar to wipe down the table tops, he said something else that stopped her short.

"Did you ever think, all those years ago, that you would end up where you are and who you are, now?"

She almost dropped the glass she was about to put down, but quickly caught herself, setting it down and turning slowly towards the man sitting by the bar. He was looking at her with inquisitive eyes, as if he was truly interested in what she had to say, as if he hadn't just asked as a lead in for his own purposes.

She looked at him curiously. He was definitely good looking with his dark features and creamy skin, and, from what she could tell, he was rather tall with broad shoulders and a well defined jaw which was dotted with stubble. He had dark brown hair which was cut in a way that had the longest layers almost reach his shoulders, but it was a rather short and clean cut style despite the waviness of his hair.

He was a different sort of attractive compared to Cloud. This man was attractive due to a set of well-matched features, which together, made him very good-looking, but alone were rather average and unpronounced. His nose seemed slightly too big for his face, his lips were rather thin and there was something about his eyes that didn't sit right with Tifa. Sure, he was good-looking, but the soft look on his face didn't match his sharp eyes and it was a little unsettling.

But Cloud-everything about Cloud in terms of looks, was perfect.

From his azure, mako-tainted eyes which had gone through many physical changes that reflected so many years of transitions and hardships, to that impossibly spiky blonde hair which resembled the rear-end of a chocobo-he was perfect to Tifa. Every flaw, every imperfection-every _scar-_just made him all the more beautiful to her.

But it made no difference to her now, at least, it shouldn't.

Now she found herself staring at the unfamiliar man who had caused her world to come to a screeching halt, if only for a moment.

"No, I didn't. Not at all," she said, more to herself than to him. He sat up a little straighter, his dark eyes softening a little more and boring into Tifa's own. She cast a glance over Seventh Heaven which she was glad to see was emptying further. The remaining patrons seemed content and settled which meant that she had time to spare.

She almost collapsed onto the bar stool next to the stranger.

"Tifa Lockheart, right?"

She nodded once and a little warily. Her name wasn't just her own these days; it was attached to AVALANCHE and even a certain blonde warrior, it was rumoured, was dating the buxom, brunette barmaid. She offered him a hand and he took it with a surprisingly gentle grip.

"It's nice to meet you," she smiled again, her eyes crinkling. His features softened further.

"You know," the stranger began, "You're a lot nicer than I expected."

Tifa almost laughed, "What were you expecting?"

"I dunno exactly, just, someone a little harder I guess. I mean, after everything you've been through," Tifa cut him off.

"We've all been through it. Meteor-we were all there," she frowned slightly.

"Yeah, but, I mean-you saved the planet," he continued with an almost child-like exuberance, his eyes sparkling with wonder, "You were right there, in the action, fighting, you know?"

"Yeah, well," her frown deepened, "I'm no hero. I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of."

"I never said you were," but he was grinning goofily at her now and she knew he was kidding. She cracked a small smile.

"Sorry, I never got your name," she realized. He looked surprised, his sharp eyes widening ever so slightly.

"Jake, Jake Compak," he nodded.

"Well, Jake," Tifa began, a little humour lacing her words, "What makes you think that I'm nice, after all, we've just met," she teased.

"Well, everyone's always saying how nice Tifa Lockheart is, but I just thought, after everything, you must be a little harsher sometimes, a little hard, like I said, you know?"

"What do you mean?" she leant in slightly, her right arm resting on the bar as she made herself comfortable.

"Aren't you angry? Most people in this city are either angry or too sad to almost function. And now that the Stigma-"

Tifa tuned out and thought of Denzel. Right now he was in bed; hopefully he was asleep and not awake and suffering. She felt guilty about being down in the bar socializing when she could be upstairs tending to him, but she knew Marlene was keeping watch on him if he was, in fact, awake. Besides, why should she be feeling this guilty when Cloud wasn't even in the same house?

She remembered the day Cloud had brought the orphan home. He had found him, outside of Aerith's church, and she had told him to bring him home. Cloud had walked into the bar with what, at first glance, looked like a bundle of cloth cradled in his arms, but turned out to be a small boy. A small boy who had lost his parents when the Sector 7 plate had collapsed at the hands of Reno, but which (or at least Tifa had always thoughts so) had been indirectly caused by AVALANCHE. After all, that's who the Turks had been trying to get to in the first place.

Cloud had actually, really, believed that _Aerith _had brought Denzel to him, that the flower girl had been presenting a symbol of forgiveness in the form of an opportunity to atone for his supposed sins. Tifa couldn't really blame him for thinking that way; after all, she was looking for some sort of forgiveness too.

But why had he just assumed that the flower girl had been contacting him and him alone? Aerith was _their _friend, _their _flower girl.

So Tifa had told him that she had brought him to _them _and to _their home_. Her and Cloud; they were going to save this child from a world they had seen destroyed. They were both going to atone for their sins, together. Or at least, Tifa had thought so.

But then again, maybe Denzel and _the flower girl_ were more than that to Cloud.

It was no secret to anyone but the blonde that there had been a love rivalry between the flower girl and the barmaid; unspoken or not, both women felt deeply for him. And both women felt deeply for each other which meant that their feelings not only went unspoken between the two women, but between themselves and their mutual object of desire.

Tifa had known, and Aerith had known, but Cloud never did. Neither woman had the heart to snatch the man from right out under the other's nose: they loved each other too much, they were both too kind, too selfless, too scared. Both thought there would be plenty of time to figure it all out.

Then the one-winged angel-that _demon-_had descended from the sky and taken their friend-_her friend, her sister-_from them. It was far too early, far too cruel-and Tifa broke a little as she lost part of herself and another part buried itself further deep inside of herself.

_Because how could she ever, truly be with the man her friend loved so much?_

And even on that night under the Highwind, after the death of their precious flower girl, Tifa's, and _Cloud's,_ truest feelings remained unspoken; she had said that 'words aren't the only way to show someone how you feel.'

She had given her body to him for that first time two years ago, but something changed after that, and she wasn't sure if it was the dynamic of their relationship or just Cloud. She had believed that words weren't the only way to let each other know how they were feeling, but their actions didn't go completely without confusion either. Either way, they hadn't so much as shared a kiss on the cheek or the forehead and a few rather desperate grips when one or the other would have particularly awful thoughts, or even, nightmares about events of the past. But it was these desperate grips that often lead to a heated frenzy of desperate mouths and a tangle of limbs falling into Tifa's bed and it was usually after these episodes that Cloud left for a delivery, and left for a rather long time. Tifa hadn't minded for such a long while because the intimacy of this ritual not only made her feel closer to Cloud, but gave her some sense of normalcy-it fed her an illusion of two lovers and their children, a _family._ Now, she realized, it was always _just __an_ _illusion._

She began to think that maybe he left after they made love because of guilt, because he couldn't give Tifa what she really wanted, because to him, it was_ just_ sex. Because he didn't know how she _truly _felt and nor did she know how the blonde felt about her. She was only working with assumptions and her own seemingly deteriorating, usually positive, mindset, but in the end, it was all the same to her.

Because he always left, and right now, he was gone again. She wouldn't be hurt, not again, not by _him._

"I've been angry for too long, now, I'm just-"

"Trying to live?"

Tifa, who had been gazing into space as she tried to collect her thoughts, snapped her head back towards Jake with wide eyes and stared.

"Yeah," she smiled, "Something like that."

He smiled back, the light in his eyes doing a sort of dance which reflected a look Tifa often found herself wanting to find in Cloud's eyes. It was admiration and, maybe, even a little adoration.

She knew Cloud thought very highly of her, that much was obvious between the two. He was always telling her that she was strong, much stronger than he could ever be, but she wished he would be more open and honest about _their relationship-w_hatever that relationship may be. _How did Cloud really feel?_ Tifa looked to the door-an annoying, habitual and sometimes downright frustrating gesture on her part-and laughed. It was a small, bitter sound and it didn't go unnoticed.

"It's not true? About you and Cloud Strife?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"How do you figure?"

"He's never around. I can tell," he looked at her sombrely, but gave her a small sympathetic smile. His eyes and smile were always in conflict with each other it seemed.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," but her tone was bitter.

"Just like every other man," and _his_ tone was sceptical and not without humour. She laughed despite herself.

Maybe Jake was exactly what Tifa needed. Maybe she could finally forgive herself.

* * *

So, I've split it into three parts instead of two. There were also a couple bits I've edited in this first chapter. Part-two and three will be up soon. Please R&R. Let me know what you think.

Also, if you've been following 'It's Not Fair', I've sort of had a mental, funny-block. I want to keep it light and humorous, so I can't write it until I feel funny again!

But soon, I hope! Wish me luck.


	2. Part II

Sorry, ladies and gents. I split the first chapter in two, so there are three. There are a few edits in these two chapters as well. They're pretty minute, but they were were really bothering me. Haha.

So, here is part two!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but Jake.

* * *

"Oh," she stood up, smoothing down the creases in her black cotton shorts and white singlet as she moved to stand along the other side of the bar, "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, please," he sighed as he lifted his arms above his head and stretched, "I've been working all day."

"What would you like?"

"Just a beer, that'll do me. Thank you," he smiled up at her widely, and she smiled widely back and set a bottle in front of him. Sure, not all of her customers were misogynist pigs; in fact, she hardly encountered many customers that were disrespectful towards her these days. Jake was right: after Meteor Fall people were either too angry at the world or too depressed to function properly. Plus, the fact that she had had a hand in the defeat of Sephiroth didn't hurt. Despite what she thought, she was something of a hero-AVALANCHE were heroes. But Jake-he was a much needed, breath of fresh air and Tifa found herself wishing that all her customers were this friendly and accommodating.

'_And attractive,' _she thought, as she blushed slightly. And more than that, he was making her forget herself a little-and ignorance was best, sometimes.

"You're very welcome," she settled back onto the stool next to him, "What do you do for a living anyway?"

She waited for him to take a drink from the long neck in his hand and swallow. He let out a satisfied sort of sigh.

"Well, after the Sector 7 plate fell," Tifa shifted a little in her seat, "I made it my mission in life to find homes for survivors. Mind you, there weren't many," he paused as Tifa shifted again. Jake didn't notice, lost in his own thoughts.

"Whether that be actually having a hand in placing orphans in homes or collaborating with other builders and contractors and actually building houses from scratch. I mean, they're not much, but as long as they got four walls and a roof over their heads, people don't mind much."

"Jake," Tifa reached out without thinking and grasped his hand, "That's amazing." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. His eyes remained sharp and it made him look even bitterer than what his odd smile was presenting.

"The real irony is," his features softened as his voice was laced with humour again, "I've been so focused on finding homes for others that I've been out of home for the last couple of years. After the Sector 7 plate fell, I haven't been able to get settled. And then there was Meteor, so, you know..."

Realization hit Tifa, "You lived in Sector 7?"

"I was out of town when the plate fell. I was spared again when Meteor fell. I was one of the lucky ones," he trailed off and bowed his head, looking away from her, "So, this mission or whatever, it never seems enough, you know?"

"I know exactly what you mean," she squeezed his hand that she realized she was still gripping, "It never seems enough, but you know, as long as we're here, as long as we're trying-living-then maybe one day it will be enough."

He turned back to her and nodded, "We can't run away. We've got to stand our ground."

She looked towards the door again, "No, we can't," she turned back to him, "Hey," he was looking at their gripped hands with an air of wonder, "Do you need a place to stay tonight?"

He looked shocked again, his angled eyes widening so that they were almost round. Tifa smiled softly at him as she stood up before him and held out her left hand; her right was already, still gripping his other.

"Follow me."

Tifa pulled Jake up the stairs towards the living quarters of the bar. As they made their way past the kids room, she called out softly, "Marlene, can you come here a minute, sweetie?"

A petite girl with brown hair twisted into a braid and dressed in a pale violet skirt and turtleneck vest came padding out, a concerned expression on her face far too mature for her features, "Yes, Tifa?"

Marlene look worried, even harassed, and Tifa felt guilty for not keeping a closer eye on the two children. But, she knew that Marlene would worry either way-looking after Denzel was her main priority which was quite a feat for a six year old. Tifa bent down and hugged her tightly then pulled back to find Marlene smiling at her-with a child's smile much more suited to such a young face. The barmaid took note of the pink ribbon tied around the girl's braid-a tribute to their deceased flower girl and, sometimes, what seemed like the only colour in such a monotonous world.

"Marlene, this is Jake. He'll be staying here for the night," she gestured towards the man beside her. Marlene came forth and held out her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, sir!" Tifa beamed as the little girl took the older man's hand and smiled up at him.

"It's nice to meet you too, Marlene, but call me Jake," Jake nodded smiling down at the adorable girl before him, "I hope you don't mind, me staying here."

"Not at all, but, Tifa," she turned around to face the older woman, her long braid swinging wildly across her back, "Where will Jake sleep? In the living room? That couch isn't the best place to sleep, I should know. " She babbled hurriedly, earning a chuckle from Jake. Tifa, however, flushed guiltily.

"Actually, sweetie, I was thinking of putting him up in Cloud's room," she cringed as she said _his_ name, and shifted uncomfortably when Marlene turned hurt eyes on her.

"But, what if he comes back?" Marlene asked, "He's going to come back, Tifa."

"I know," she lied, "But that might not be for a while."

Marlene nodded, and then smiled, the hurt completely gone from her eyes. Tifa admired her ability to accept the truth so willingly.

"Would you like me to do something for you, Tifa? Denzel's asleep now," she looked into the room she shared with the boy. Tifa followed her line of vision and met an image of Denzel fast asleep. She was relieved to see an expression of peace etched on his face which meant that he was truly asleep and not suffering. The stigma had been particularly unkind to him the week before, but it seemed to ease up in the last couple of days. Denzel was so brave, Tifa thought, but she could tell that his spirit was crushed a little by the fact that Cloud had been gone for so long.

"Could you show Jake to Clou- his room? Just while I close up the bar?"

"Of course, Tifa!" Marlene chirped and burst forward, grabbing Jake's hand and pulling him towards Cloud's room. Tifa giggled as she watched the two disappear down the hall and hear Marlene apologize for the state of the room.

"It's more of an office than anything, but at least he has a bed!"

Tifa spun on her heel and made her way downstairs.

It was about 11 and so she apologized to the remaining few customers and directed them out. Post-Meteor, the Seventh Heaven of Edge was more of a family establishment, and therefore the customers were usually rather tame. That wasn't to say that her customers didn't get stinking drunk and caused trouble from time to time, but tonight, all left without complaint. She took one more look at the door before she locked it.

_'He won't be home tonight,' _she thought.

When she made her way upstairs again, Marlene came running up to her and told her she was going to bed now that Jake was settled. She told her she had shown him where the bathroom and everything else was, and Tifa thanked her.

"Sleep well, Marly," and she bent down and kissed her on the forehead, "I'll see you in the morning."

"Tifa," Marlene asked with a look of slight confusion and thought on her face, "He'll be back. You know that, right?"

Tifa simply nodded, "But, for now, we're going to be okay, right?"

Marlene beamed, "Of course, Tifa! We'll never give up."

* * *

I love Marlene. She's such a doll. Plus, ever since ACC and that extra scene of her and Cloud with the whole impersonating Barret thing... classic.

Part 3 will be up soon!


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